In Her Condition
by hermyandronforevr
Summary: Hermione's having a baby. Join her through the trials and tribulations of pregnancy. Chapter 2 is up.
1. See Hermione Puke

**Chapter 1: See Hermione Puke**

Hermione sat at her desk flicking her quill back and forth between her fingers. Her stomach was turning and her mouth was beginning to water. What was making her so sick? Was it the bagel? Or the orange juice? That had to be it. The orange juice must have gone bad.

"Hermione?" someone said, standing in front of her. She looked up and it was Charles, the editor of the Daily Prophet. "Did you ever find out what was causing the outbreak boils on east side of town?"

"Vomit," Hermione muttered.

"Vomit?" Charles repeated, confused. "Vomit is causing—"

"No," Hermione said urgently, "I'm going to vomit." Without another word she ran from her desk to the ladies' room, threw open the door to the nearest stall, and (without bothering to latch the door) she knelt down in front of the toilet and promptly threw up her bagel and orange juice.

When she was finished, she flushed the toilet and stood in front of the mirror. Her brown eyes were bleary and tears had streamed down her face. She was breathing hard. She tried to calm down and splashed cold water on her face. As she wiped the water off, she continued to stare into the mirror.

_Let's think about this logically, _she thought._ The orange juice wasn't bad. I remember checking the expiration date. The bagel was fine. I must have a stomach virus or something. That's it. I'm just ill. _

She threw the paper towel in the trash can and ran her fingers threw her bushy brown hair. The door to the bathroom opened and Hermione turned. It was Phoebe, another journalist.

"Are you okay?" Phoebe asked, leaning against the edge of the sink with her arms crossed.

"Yeah," Hermione answered. "I think I have a stomach virus or something."

"You're not pregnant, are you?"

"What?" Hermione said. That was the farthest conclusion from her mind. "No, I can't be pregnant."

"You're probably right," Phoebe said. "Have you missed any periods?"

"Of course no--" Hermione began, but then she thought about it and she couldn't remember the last time she'd had her period. "Oh, no…no, no. I can't be pregnant. I've just been really stressed here at work and trying to move into our new house and…"

"You're probably right," Phoebe said again, although she didn't look like she thought Hermione was right.

"I've got to go home," Hermione said frantically. She ran from the bathroom and into Charles' office. "I need to go home."

"Okay…" Charles said. "Are you alright?"

"I either have a virus or a human growing inside of me," Hermione said. "I'm not sure."

"Uh…Okay," Charles said. "Call me tomorrow and let me know which."

"Okay."

Out on the street, it was drizzling. Hermione ran as fast as she could away from the Daily Prophet Offices. Not watching where she was going, she accidently bumped into a man and almost fell to the ground. "Oh!" she cried. She'd run into him chest first and the impact had hurt her breasts.

She yelled an apology over her shoulder as she continued running. When she got home she sent an owl to Ginny, asking her to come over right away. The new house she and her husband, Ron, were moving into was full of boxes that had not yet been emptied. As she flung them open one by one she chanted, "Please be a virus, please be a virus."

She finally found the long white pregnancy test and ran to the bathroom. Unfortunately, she didn't have to urinate, although it was a good thing she'd gone to the bathroom because as soon as she'd closed the door she threw up again.

Out of breath and extremely annoyed, Hermione went to the kitchen and took out three butterbeers. She downed the first two as fast as she could. She only got through half of the third one before she ran to the bathroom again. She pulled down her pants and sat on the toilet. She immediately regretted this because she hadn't opened the pregnancy test yet. Her legs shook impatiently, trying to hold it long enough to get the plastic off.

"Hermione!" Ginny called from the front door.

"I'm in the bathroom!" Hermione called back. She'd finished and was now pacing in front of the sink where the pregnancy test lay. It was beginning to change colors…there was a pink horizontal line…good, good, that meant she wasn't pregnant…as long as the vertical line doesn't show up…

"Nooooooo!" Hermione yelled.

"What? What is it?" Ginny called, now right outside the bathroom.

Hermione swung the bathroom door open. She stood in the doorway and handed the pregnancy test to Ginny. "What's this?" she asked, staring at the little pink plus sign.

"It's a Muggle pregnancy test," Hermione said in a defeated sort of way. "A plus sign means I'm—"

"Pregnant?!" Ginny yelped. "You're pregnant? Oh, my god, Hermione that's great!"

"Is it?"

"You're not happy?" Ginny asked, still looking at the test.

"Well, I wasn't expecting this so soon," Hermione said. "Ron and I just got our own house and we planned to wait a few years before having kids."

"Well," Ginny said. "Maybe you should've waited a few years to have sex."

"Yeah," Hermione said, "tell that to Ron. Oh, god, Ron. He's going to freak."

"It'll be fine," Ginny said. "How does this thing work, anyway? If we think we're pregnant we drink a potion and it turns our pee purple if we are."

"You pee on the stick," Hermione explained.

"You peed on this?" Ginny asked, holding up the test.

"Well, yeah…"

"Ew!" Ginny cried, flinging the test into the kitchen sink. "Hermione, for future reference, never let me hold something you've peed on."

**Let me know if this interests anyone and I'll continue.**


	2. See Ron Freak

**Chapter 2: See Ron Freak**

Hermione paced back and forth in the kitchen holding a glass salad bowl that she'd unpacked. She'd tried to unpack some of the many boxes that filled the house but she couldn't do anything, except think about Ron's reaction when she told him she was pregnant. What was he going to say? She hoped it wouldn't be too bad. They loved each other. Even though a baby was completely unexpected at this point in their lives together, Ron would be happy there was a baby on the way. Wouldn't he?

She heard the door shut loudly and jumped, dropping the bowl. It fell to the floor and broke into several pieces. Hermione took a deep breath, picked up her wand, and pointed it at the bowl. "Reparo," she muttered. The pieces of broken glass pulled themselves back together. Sitting the bowl on the table, she walked into the narrow hallway that led to the living room.

"Hey," Ron said, taking off his wet cloak and hanging on the coat rack next to the front door. He walked over to Hermione and kissed her.

"Hi," Hermione finally said, after a moment of silence. "Ron, we need to ta--"

Before she could finish her sentence, Hermione felt the now familiar need to vomit. Without even a hand motion Hermione darted to the bathroom, leaving Ron with a very confused and worried look on his face. When she'd finished throwing up, Hermione closed the lid of the toilet and sat on it. She wiped the wetness from her face.

_Oh, god,_ she thought. _I can't do this. I can't tell him. If he's fine that's good, if he's not…I'll just tell him it's not his. Ha…now is no time to be funny…I'll just wait until I have the baby and when I come home with it, it'll be too late and he'll just have to accept it…_

"Ugh," Hermione uttered out loud. It was her stomach that answered with a loud growl. She placed her hand on her stomach. She realized that she hadn't eaten anything since her bagel, which the baby obviously didn't think was good enough.

_Knock, knock. _"Hermione?" Ron called from outside the bathroom door. "Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah," she called back. "I'll be out in a second."

When Hermione finally got the courage to leave the bathroom, Pigwidgeon was pecking on the living room window. Ron opened it and let the tiny, soaked owl in. He took the letter from him, shook the excess water off, and opened it. Pigwidgeon then fluttered up the stairs where his post was.

"Ron," Hermione said, swallowing several times. _Ugh, _she though,_ I should've brushed my teeth…I really wish I had some cookies and a tub of chocolate frosting._

"Just a minute," Ron said, "this is from George. It might be about work. The shop's been really busy lately and he might need me to work some extra hours."

"Oh, well, that'll be good," Hermione said. _We can buy a crib with the extra money you make._

"Mmm," said Ron, not looking up from the letter. Finally, he put it down. "Yep, that's what it was. I'll be working all day tomorrow."

"Can we talk now?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, yeah," Ron said, sitting down on the couch. "Sorry. You mind if I unpack while we talk?"

"You want to unpack?" Hermione asked, amazed. It wasn't like Ron to do anything like unpacking without being forced.

"Well," Ron said, "I don't _want _to, but we're both so busy with work we've barely got time to do it and having to look threw boxes every time I need something is getting a bit irritating. Doing this whole grown-up thing is hard work. I can't imagine how my mum ever got anything done doing this with all seven of us kids…not to mention my dad. It's a good thing we don't have any kids yet." He laughed.

"Yeah," Hermione said, forcing a laugh that she was sure wasn't convincing. Ron didn't seem to notice as he took his wand out and began to open boxes and place things where they belonged with it. Hermione sat on the love seat that was perpendicular to the couch. "Okay," Hermione said, exhaling loudly. Her stomach growled again. "Well…" _Growl._ "…okay…" _Gurgle._ "I think…the best way to do this is just to come right out and tell you…"

Ron stopped pulling things out of the boxes with his wand and looked at Hermione expectantly, with a hint of worry to his expression.

"Ron, I'm…" Hermione paused and closed her eyes. _Grrroooowwwwwll. _"I'm really hungry."

"Oh," Ron said, looking confused but a little relieved. "Okay. Well, I'm hungry, too. You want to take a break and eat some dinner?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, happy for any excuse to postpone the whole 'I'm carrying your unborn child' conversation. They both went to the kitchen. Ron fixed himself a sandwich while Hermione sat at the table, flicking her wand around the kitchen making potato soup, garlic bread, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, a salad, and re-heating some left over apple pie. When it was all finished Hermione didn't even bother making Ron a plate. She sat everything in front of her on the table and piled her own plate full.

"You really are hungry," Ron said, watching Hermione shovel as much of the food in front of her as she could, almost at the speed of light. "If I were any other man, I might be grossed out, but since I'm me…I find you incredibly sexy right now."

He got up from the table and stood behind Hermione's chair. He lifted the heap of curly hair off her left shoulder and began kissing her neck. "Not now," Hermione said thickly, taking a bit of pie and mashed potatoes mixed together. "I'm eating."

Ron seemed a little hurt but sat back down in his chair. He reached for a piece of garlic bread but Hermione smacked his hand away. "That's mine, have another sandwich."

"Geez," Ron said, sitting his elbow on the table, and resting his head on the palm of his hand. "You'd think you were starving to death."

_No, _Hermione thought, _I'm just eating for two you selfish bastard. _She immediately felt bad for thinking this. After all, Ron had no idea she was eating for two. Why would she call him a selfish bastard? That was so mean. In the middle of a large spoonful of macaroni, Hermione burst into tears.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "What's the matter?"

"I…I…I…" Hermione sobbed. "That was terrible. I'm a terrible wife. I shouldn't have called you that. I'm sorr…rry."

"Called me what?" Ron asked.

Hermione hadn't realized she didn't say the selfish bastard thing out loud. This made her cry harder.

"It's okay, it's okay," Ron said quickly, obviously trying not to upset her any more. "What's all this about Hermione? You've been acting really strange." He got up and picked up the salad bowl. Leaning against the counter, he picked the tomatoes out and popped them into his mouth.

Hermione swallowed and looked at him with her tear stained face. "Ron," she began, "I'm pregnant."

There was a loud crash. The salad bowl lay broken on the kitchen floor for the second time that day. The lettuce, tomatoes, and other vegetables were strewn across the room. "You're…you're pregnant?"

"Yes."

"With a baby?"

"No, Ron," Hermione said sarcastically, spooning some soup into her mouth. "With a hippogriff." Now that actually telling Ron the big news was over with, she wasn't so nervous anymore. He could deal with it any way he wanted to.

"Pregnant."

"Pregnant."

"You're…there's…baby…"

"Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Baby?" Ron muttered. His eyes looked glazed over and he was staring at the wall instead of at Hermione. "I'm going to be a father?"

"Yep," Hermione said, eating a piece of garlic bread in almost two bites.

"I'm…I'm not old enough to be a father…"

"Oh, you were old enough to be a father when you started puberty," Hermione said.

"Puberty."

"Yep."

"I feel like I'm going to be sick."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Hermione jumped up. "Me first!" she yelped, running to the bathroom. The salad lay forgotten on the floor.

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